Fire's Ice
by Mabel-Zen
Summary: Just a short drabble or practice piece on how Tahu Nuva would contemplate, when he's not hotheaded, and, in fact, the opposite. NOT SLASH, thankyouverymuch. R&R and critiques welcomed.


Disclaimer: Bionicle, and the characters mentioned below, are LEGO's.

And I will put to rest your worries: This isn't slash. This is very, very safe. Just a drabble and practice.

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'_Live within the Virtues and dwell within the Circle, to lead you to –_ nngh!' 

The red finger lifted off the ice wall, to reveal a dent of melted ice in the wall.

In frustration, Tahu Nuva tried to calm himself down.

It was midnight in the Sanctum, and the Toa Nuva of Fire was trying his best not to wreck his week-nightly haunt with his conflicting element.

Correction: His _secret_ week-nightly haunt.

It had good reason to be secret. He had a reputation to keep: Fire-man, hot-headed, powerful, wild and raging with the livid flames licking from his magma swords.

None of those equated to him having the docility and peace of mind to contemplate – like a Ko-Matoran or, better yet, Kopaka Nuva.

But he did not deny the silent truth: He had another side to him. He was calmer, more clearly-minded and yearned to be wiser.

Not only was it beneficial to his rank as leader of the Toa Nuva, he found himself in a better mood and state when he was contemplating and thinking to himself.

The fires can calm and soothe, from a raging inferno to a tiny flame on the wick of a candle.

Tahu Nuva had often found himself reading the inscribed tablets and walls of Vakama's hut when he was in a good mood and not in a need for a thrill. He wandered down to the lava fields to watch the flow of the molten rock, never eddying and moving fluidly and leisurely down its path and its ochre glow against the red walls of stone. It was a good time to contemplate.

But, when he had read his fill at Ta-Koro's resources, he wanted more.

So, on each sixth night, a clandestine trip would be made from one extreme to another.

He would fly through the chilled air of Ko-Wahi with his Miru Nuva and make his way into the Sanctum. He would promptly start reading the walls and silently contemplate the words while watching the stars through its translucent ceiling until the night candle dies, and then return to his warm home to rest till the sun rises into the sky. All this he did in his own time, and this he did in peace.

The trip and the reading had its bane: the cold. Tahu never liked the chill. It was a shudder that disturbed his mind. It was not comforting. It was a harsh reminder that he was in the land of ice and not in the familiarity of his village, and he was here in secret.

But he could handle it. He tolerated it, and was promptly rewarded with the new insights that came every night as he sat or stood on the icy floor, fighting the chill and letting the soft glow of his magma sword show the words on the wall.

Tonight, he noted with pride that he had made progress.

He had unscrambled the leftmost panel of the Sanctum's wall: an insightful elaboration of why the Ko-Matoran wished to be wise and why they were reading the panels laboriously, yet with unseen enthusiasm.

If it helped him to know that Kopaka wished to be in his detached manner to see what others could not see and to find solutions in serene philosophy while others pore over information and resource (and heated air) with wasted effort, it could help put the bickers he made with his cool-minded comrade to rest. The other Toa would find it easier to solve problems as well, he supposed.

He and his Toa felt the tension made by the arguments – arguments by Kopaka and himself. It made them uneasy, and hence drove them to find ways of escape by leaving the group. No wonder Lewa often left, with Onua in tow. No wonder Gali tried to barge in, no matter how the two parties blocked her out. No wonder easy-going Pohatu tried to avoid their eyes and turned away when a fight broke out.

Yes, the Sanctum was useful and beneficial to Tahu. He treasured the trips, and now he knew better.

And, besides, the juxtaposition between fire and ice was not so great. Like the calm fire, ice could ease one's mind just as well.

Tahu watched drops of melted ice from the ceiling form tiny crystalline forms, and trickle down the smooth features. Like a raindrop, the drop of melted ice would fall to the floor and disappear.

The glow of the ice in the moonlight mirrored the glow of the lava, just in the hues of blue and white instead of red and yellow.

All this led him to think that, possibly, a conjoining of fire and ice was possible. A treaty between fire and ice was possible.

The walls seemed to suggest this. This current paragraph in the wall was about to tell him so, when he marred the flawless wall with a heated finger.

Silently cursing himself, he rubbed the cold off his finger.

A thought hit him. An unnerving one.

How could he erase the evidence of his presence?

There came the clash of fire and ice.

Each cancelled each other out, and each marred the other. Fire smothers ice with its heat to melt it. Ice smothers fire with its cold to extinguish it. Often, the others reasoned that it was the reason why fire and ice could never get along: in the battle where only one could exist and emerge victor, be it in a quarrel or a clash of weapons, it was certain that these two elements would battle for the sole survival of itself.

It bothered Tahu, as much as his current situation bothered him.

His eyes left the words for the smear, and he thought hard as he gazed at it.

"Worry not about it, Toa Tahu."

In sudden fright, the Toa jumped. He looked around, to find Matoro looking back at him calmly, a candle in his hands.

"I will fix that tomorrow. Turaga Nuju asked me to inform you to leave. Toa Kopaka would be returning from his nightly walk soon."

Stunned, Toa Tahu felt his old temper about to flare, unchecked. His mood was lost to the shock of surprise and the scenario of his secret being discovered.

A twinkle came from a corner of his eye, just as he witnessed a drop of water from an icicle drip to the floor.

No, not now. For now, let peace reign.

"Very well, Matoro. Good night."

Tahu Nuva turned for the door, but paused.

"Matoro, where does Kopaka travel to at night?"

The Ko-Matoran looked up at him with his Akaku.

"To the Walls of Prophecy at Ta-Koro."

Tahu Nuva smiled with a smug grin of knowing.

"Inform him that I wish him a good night."

"And he to you, Toa Tahu."

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Note: (Reviews and critiques are requested for this story. This author wants your opinion and wants to know where she can improve. Seriously, after not writing for a long time, you don't know how much rots away.) 


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